Abandoned
by dantesdarkqueen
Summary: A collection of Heather, Vergil, Dante, and other characters' thoughts concerning various abandonments. Nice and angsty. Hey, I'm still alive. And here we meet another little girl. She's not from the manga or the novel, though. She's from the anime.
1. Heather

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary: **This one takes place slightly out-of-sync with the storyline I have established for my fics. I know I said that Trish would never be in one of my stories, but she is mentioned in this one. However, this is the sole exception (deepest apologies to the Trish fans out there); she isn't making a cameo appearance in any other fics of mine (mostly because with the timeline I've come up with, Dante never even meets her!) To put it in a nutshell, this one takes place sometime during "My Angel;" Heather's thoughts after a late-night tryst with Dante, after which he leaves her. Vergil does not make an appearance in this one. I know, it doesn't mesh with "My Angel" too well, but hey, I can't explain where this one came from. Self-esteem clashes with reality, far as I can tell. Reviews are, as always, much appreciated!

Abandoned

_I'm laying here alone in the cold wet grass, unable to catch my breath because of you. I am alone now, where before you were here with me. My skirt is hiked up to my waist, my shirt torn open to expose my breasts to the night, the buttons scattered to the winds. My sword necklace is thrown behind my head, tangling in my hair. A tear is sliding down my face, carrying my heart with it._

_Why did you leave me? You said you loved me, whispered it into my ear as you moved atop me, over and over and over again…What did I do to make you leave? Your departure had to be my fault; you are so perfect, so flawless, you would never make a mistake._

_Especially not one to do with me. _

_Why did you leave?_

_Is it because I'm fat? I know I promised so many times to lose weight, to become more akin to those skinny models you admire so much in your dirty magazines and adult movies. I tried so many times to diet, but I could never muster the willpower to continue for more than a few weeks; I love my burgers and Doritos too much to give them up for long. I cannot wean you off your beer, so why should I have to give up my favored foods for the sake of thinness? _

_Did you leave because I'm not beautiful? Because I do not have blonde hair, blue eyes, or a body that matches your own for sheer height? I know you are attracted to females who look like your mother (I don't blame you; she's so beautiful in that photograph you keep on your desk, your only tribute to the woman who gave you life), a classic Freudian case. Did you leave because my hair is brown rather than shining gold? Because my eyes alternate between brown and green, not a straight sapphire like hers? Because I am short rather than tall, as she was?_

_Did you leave me for that woman you once called 'partner', the woman who looks almost exactly like her? Does she lay claim to your heart because she is your mother's doppelganger, and I can never look like her?_

_Or is it some other reason?_

_Your taking was so rough this time, so unlike your usual considerate ways. Oh, it felt wonderful, of course; it always does no matter what you do to me. But something was different this time. You've been rough before, rough to the point that I was unsure whether to scream out in agony or ecstasy, but this time I felt something else from you…_

_Desperation?_

_Was this your way of saying good-bye?_

_You never said any of the usual things this time. No "relax, babe," or "God, you're tight!" rang through the air this night. Just that same declaration of love, whispered over and over again in my ear, always in time with your movements. _

_If you love me so much, why are you gone from me? _

_I think of you as the wind rushes across my naked form, and my heart aches. I love you so much it hurts, a sweet agony unlike anything a woman should be able to survive. What did you do to me, when I resisted loving you for so long? How did you break the barriers encasing my heart all these years? How did you make me open up to you when I had stayed behind the mask for so long, hiding from the world?_

_I trusted you, so much…_

_I love you, so much…_

_Why am I now alone in the grass, feeling the warmth of my body slowly leaving me? Why am I laying here motionless while your seed leeches onto the frosty carpet beneath me?_

_Why didn't I stop you from walking away from me?_

_What can another woman offer you that outshines that which I already have? My virginity, my body, my heart and soul? I gave you so much, and yet it still wasn't enough to make you stay. What more did you want from me? What does that woman, _any_ woman, have that I don't? Beauty? Strength? A soul?_

_You always said that I was beautiful enough for you, that you liked having something substantial to hold onto while we made love. You always said that I was strong enough, after all those years of pain and loneliness, to deal with the devil inside you. You always said that I had more of a soul than you, that while both of us had lost so much over time I had managed to keep more of my soul than you had. If they weren't what caused you to leave, then what am I lacking?_

_I wish you would tell me, but you are gone from me now._

_Silvery tears trail down my face, glinting in the moonlight, shining in the coldness of the stars._

_And then…_

_I see you._

_You're kneeling beside me, and your perfect face is silhouetted against the pale moon; I cannot read your emotions. Your hands are beneath my shoulders, under my knees, and you lift me into your arms, cradling me against the inferno that is your body. _

_You place a tender kiss upon my forehead, and whisper to me not to cry. You never let me cry. _I _never let myself cry. Why do I allow the tears to flow now, after keeping them dammed up for so many years? _

_My hands curl into the red leather you wear to shield your body from the gazes of those you deem unworthy of looking upon you, of seeing the perfection that is your human form. Your hair, silver as the tears falling to the ground beneath us, brushes against my face as you kiss me softly._

_As if you loved me._

_I feel your heart beating beneath my fists, and I have to wonder what rules you, the demon or the man? You often say that you fear you cannot control the demon around me…_

_Is that why you left me? Because you were afraid of your own blood, your own strength?_

_Were you trying to protect me?_

_You lift your head, and I can see into the azure orbs that are your eyes._

_Love for me…_

_Terror for me…_

_You carry me away to your home, and I rest against the steely muscles that are your chest, letting out my breath in a whisper-soft exhalation._

_I love you so much._

_I would do anything for you._

_Just please…_

_Do not abandon me again._


	2. Vergil

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary: **This chapter is told from Vergil's POV, a few hours after Heather runs away during the events of "My Angel." Basically he's thinking while he looks at her picture. Maybe he is a little OOC here, but writing angst from his point of view ain't exactly easy, ya know? Not when it comes to romance, anyway. This may sound a little disjointed. I designed the story to sound that way. There's a lot of stuff floating around Vergil's head at the moment; not all of it is supposed to make a whole lot of sense. _Muchos_ apologies to the readers if Vergil comes across as mooning over Heather; that was not the intention of the writer! Reviews are, as always, much appreciated! Flamers will have gasoline poured on them and be danced around whilst naked sometime around midnight.

**Queen's Quorner:** You know, I had no intention of continuing this. It was just supposed to be a oneshot, but my muse apparently had other ideas. Blame this on long car trips, heavy metal being used to block out the evil Harry Potter book tapes, and being cooped up in a minivan with a polar-opposite little sister and an extremely grouchy mother. Dante, Michael, and Aeva will be up next, each with monologues based on the idea of them being somehow abandoned. Either by Heather, or someone else. Maybe I'll even do multiples for different people! Maybe Eva will even make an appearance. Ideas flow! Yay!

Vergil

_She's abandoned me._

_Angel..._

_What have I done to deserve this?_

_This is the sixth hour since she made her escape out the bedroom window, well past sunset, even past midnight. For an uncounted stretch of time, I have been sitting here on the edge of my bed, gazing at her photograph. Ignoring everything but this perfect, frozen image of my living angel. Dante, Zak, the sidhe, and the _dock-alfar_ ceased their search some time ago, having turned up nothing but a man who claimed she had taken a bus somewhere. I was unable to determine where. Zak is going to attempt a Search tommorow night, metaphyisically, once the moon has risen. It is our hope that magical eyes will succeed where physical ones have, thus far, failed. _

_I was so certain that she would choose me. I am the logical choice; Dante is unfit to be a father. He spends so much time drinking, partying, immersed in pursuits unfit for a man whose woman is potentially carrying his child. I do not drink nearly as much or as often as he does. Nor have I ever been with prostitues, or spent time at the sort of parties my brother has always preferred. I have always been the more responsible twin. Even if the child was not born of my seed, I would have been the more logical choice to carry on as its father. _

_But she was unable to choose between us. That is the reason why she has fled. She claims she loves us both. _

_How could she abandon someone she loves?_

_How can I even ask that, when I was making plans to move into the new Devil May Cry on the off chance that Heather would choose Dante over me?_

_I tilt the photograph to catch the silvery rays of moonlight streaming through my window, allowing them to illuminate the countenance of the woman I have claimed as my own. She is so plain in comparison to other human females, constantly overshadowed by the attractive women my brother always brought home, before allowing himself to become smitten with Heather. My angel is not lovely to look upon, and she is far more voluptuous than what the American species considers beautiful. But what I have discovered is that the non-descript looks and extra padding do not matter when compared to the soul of the woman, hidden so deeply within. In so many ways, Heather reminds me of my own mother. She is strong and exceedingly intelligent, qualities I have always valued above all else. How can I not be attracted to a female possessed of such notable qualities?_

_Humans value only beauty and strength, with those possessed of the former considered to be far greater than those who possess the latter. Demons, on the other hand, accord strength a higher standing than beauty. We believe that beauty is merely blood on the flesh, or rather, icing on the cake. An added bonus, but ultimately useless. Power, strength, purity... That is all that truly measures the worth of an individual._

_My angel has enormous reserves of inner strength, respectable amounts of physical power hidden beneath the stocky build, latent psychic abilites, and..._

_Well, Dante and I have made short work of her purity, her innocence. What humans would refer to, in their single-mindedness, as her virginity._

_Physical and mental. We have fornicated with her, filled her mind with ideas Christian priests would call immoral. She has not taken a life, no; that much purity is left to her. _

_She is _our_ woman._

_Irrevocably, eternally, totally _ours._ Mine and my brother's. _

_A truce has been reached between us. Until she returns and gives us her decision, we are to share her. Niether of us have her at the moment, after all. We are only left with memories. Bittersweet recollections. _

_I would never have thought my heart would belong to anyone other than myself. I maintain immaculate control over my emotions at all times. To allow them free reign is unthinkable. _

_Inconcievable. _

_When first I realized the extent of my feelings for Heather, I was by turns both terrified and angered. What was happening to my control? Why do I become so shy, so..._human_, whenever this woman is around me? _

_And then my thoughts would turn to rage. Who was this female, that she can so undermine my disciplines? She must be punished, for disrupting my emotional harmony!_

_But I could not stay angry forever. To my continuing amazement, I realized that I love her. _I love her.

_She asked me once, why I call her 'my angel.' She will never understand what I meant when I said "You saved me." What I meant was that she taught me that I am not beyond redemption, as I had originally believed. I am still possessed of a heart, a soul. I am not wholly a demon. Once I would have thought that it was better to be a devil rather than a half-breed. Better to be completely devoid of my human taint. But now, after years of time and thought, I have come to understand that my brother was, and still is, correct. The human blood is just as important as the demonic. _

_I have a heart. She saved me from darkness, from despair._

_How I love her._

_Nobody could truly understand how much I care for her, how I even _can_ love her. But in the years since I raised the Temen-ni-gru, I have gained unprecedented wisdom. Love is a kind of power unacknowledged by demons, but is well-known to the humans. It is the infusion of strength that allows one to go the extra mile in defense of those they care about, the god that can gift a sentient being with the power to continue past their normal limitations. Now that I have allowed that power, this strength so often maligned as a weakness, to fill my heart there is little that can stand against my blade. _

_Because of my love for my angel, for my twin brother, I am more powerful than I ever was before. _

_But she has left me. _

_My angel has abandoned me._

_My fingers trace lightly across her two-dimensional features, skate across darkened tresses whose softness I cannot feel. More than ever now, I long to touch her flesh, to inhale her unique scent and affirm that she is real, not some formless figment of my lonesome mind, my wandering imagination. I want to hold her so much it is almost a physical pain._

_But she is gone from me, and I cannot touch her. _

_I feel a coldness on my cheeks, and gingerly reach a hand up to touch them. My naked fingertips encounter moisture, and the gentle compression of my flesh at the contact with my questing digits sends the wetness skittering to the corner of my mouth. I snake my tongue out to taste it._

_Salty._

_Am I... crying?_

_Miracle or blessing? A sign of weakness or a symbol of how my angel has brought me back from the brink, restored to me the missing pieces of my soul? My mind spins as the human and demonic sides argue within me, telling me without words how to interpret this, the shedding of tears. I finally just ignore my inner selves and allow the tears to fall, trailing down my face in paths of shimmering moisture as I stare at her frozen image, gaze into her eyes as if she were truly before me now. _

_Angel..._

_You have to come back to me._

_I need my redemption. _


	3. Dante

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary:** OK, so what we have here is Dante's thoughts, a few months after Heather's departure. To make a long story short, he's trying to unwind as he always did before in Love Planet, fails, and goes back home while thinking about the woman who has left him. Angsty, full of denial. Now doesn't that sound like Dante?

Dante

_Bourbon. Such a blessed drink, so hot and so very cold. It burns like fire when its sliding down your throat and pooling in the depths of your belly, but it is so refreshingly cool when you slosh it into the glass, the ice clinking musically as you swirl the vessel in your hand. _

_And it offers oblivion to those in search of blessed mindlessness._

_I'm sitting in a chair at Love Planet, watching the chicks prance about the stage and climb the pole in tiny G-strings and bouncing pasties, their lithe bodies illuminated by dancing lights and flashing disco floors, the effects pulsing in time with the techno music they've got blasting from the speakers. Never before has this failed to help me forget my problems and relax. Not once. Hell, I used to come here all the time a few years ago, before the shop got destroyed and me and Vergil had to get a new one. This was my unwinding spot, where I could be guarunteed to be completely relaxed by the time I finally dragged myself back home. _

_This is a definate first._

_Always before, I would get properly sloshed, grab a fox off the stage, and haul her upstairs for some good old-fashioned fucking. Haven't done it since I started dating Heather, though. _

_Damn. I just can't get her out of my head._

_It's been two months since she flew the coop. Two months since I've last gotten laid. Two months since I figured out that she's pregnant with my kid._

_Yeah. _My_ kid. Not Vergil's. It couldn't be Vergil's. I spent way more time fucking her than he did. It's got to be mine. _

_At least, that's what I keep telling myself._

_It could just as easily be his, after all._

_God, why am I even thinking about this? _She_ left _me_. I didn't even give a crap about her, apart from the sex. That was the full extent of her worth to me. How much she could give and take, how loud she could scream when she came. How long she could go without stopping._

_There were more than a few times when she couldn't walk the next day, when I was finished with her._

_She was just another conquest. Vergil can have her, if he wants her so bad. _

_Yeah, Dante. Just keep telling yourself that. Don't pay any attention to the aching sensation in your chest whenever you think about her. Pay no mind to the fact that your heart is bleeding even now, in a place chock full of willing babes. _

_My name for her... 'Babe...'_

_Cut it out!_

_What you need is a good fucking. That will get her off your mind for sure. _

_Or so I tell myself._

_Love Planet has a house rule. If you want to get with one of the girls dancing on the pole, you have to pay extra, more than the regular room fees. The chicks usually object to such things - they aren't prostitutes, after all - but I've never been turned down, once they've gotten a good look at me. I'm something of a legend with the ladies. As long as it's nothing but a night of meaningless sex. In terms of regular dates I usually have pretty rotten luck. Heather was one of the few who..._

_Dante, stop it!_

_OK, so what looks good? Hmm... There's a blonde on the pole right now. She's pretty hot, but... _

_Yeah, I was right. Those tits of hers are definately silicone. Not getting with that. Don't like boob jobs; all-natural is the only way to go!_

_Hmm... That redhead is pretty foxy. And her tits are all-natural, too. Bit too skinny, but..._

_Wait a minute. Since when have I ever thought of a chick as 'too skinny?'_

_Since I started going out with..._

_Knock it _off_, man! She's nothing to you! Absolutely _nothing.

_The redhead's fine. A few rounds with her and you'll feel like a new man, Dante. You'll see._

_The cash is exchanged and soon I'm laying shirtless in one of the back suites, waiting for my prey. It takes a few minutes, but eventually she arrives. All hot and sweaty, her cinnamon hair sticking to flushed skin as if it had been glued on. She looks petulant at first, but once her sapphire eyes land on me, they immediately fill with lust. Of course she wants me. All the girls want me. _

_We get into it pretty quick. She's panting and all ready to go, but I'm having a slight problem. The woody isn't woody. Just can't get it up. The chick tries everything. Basic blow-job, tit-fuck, deep-throat, the whole nine yards. But it just isn't doing anything for me. My blood refuses to go where I want it to go, and _stay _there long enough for me to get off. _

_At last, both of us are beyond frustrated. She screams at me, calling me an impotent bastard, and storms out of the room. I just sprawl on the bed, glaring at my unresponsive body with furious blue eyes. Why hasn't this worked? Why couldn't a gorgeous babe like that at least get me half-mast? What kind of curse is this?_

_In my heart of hearts, I know what it is. _

_It's _her_. The woman I'm trying so hard to forget. _

_I don't want to betray her, my babe. _

_Well, isn't this a bitch. You figure out just how much you care about her when she's already gone. How cliche, Dante. How dense of you. _

_Now more depressed than ever, I get dressed and go back downstairs, leaving the strip club and mounting my Harley to go back to the house. Neither Vergil nor I live at the new Devil May Cry. We both have permanent rooms at Heather's place. We did pay rent, originally, but now we live there for free. Yep, I fell for the landlady. From the looks of it, Vergil has too. _

_You know, this whole damn situation reminds me of the time he ran away from home. We were only eight years old, and Vergil got in trouble for something; I don't remember exactly what. Mom sent him up to bed without supper. When I got upstairs, I found that he had knotted all the blankets and sheets together and had gone out the window, leaving a note that said he was running away. Dad was out looking for him all night while Mom called a few of the people she and Dad trusted, asking if they had seen him. Of course, they hadn't. Dad finally came home with Vergil around 2 in the morning, carrying him exhausted against his shoulder. I don't know where he found him, but at the time I didn't think to ask. I was just so glad to have my twin back home safe that I wouldn't let him sleep alone. I climbed down to his bed and curled up with him, comforting him while he cried himself to sleep. Vergil never told me what happened before Dad found him, but from what I could gather through our link it was bad. _

_But at least he came back. That's all that mattered, when it came right down to it. _

_She's going to come back. She has to. _

_I can't let her stay lost. I've already lost so much... Not gonna lose her too. _

_Or the kid. _

_It's strange. I never wanted kids before now. Always wore condoms or pulled out; Heather is the first woman I let myself finish completely with. Now that I think about, I actually _want_ this brat, even if it isn't mine. Heh, never thought of myself as a father, but stranger things have happened. And Vergil and I did promise Mundus that our kids would kick his ass when and if he came back again. Might as well start planning for the future. _

_But we gotta find her first. _

_Here I am, home again. The lights are out; looks like everyone's gone to bed. _

_I pull my Harley into her place in the garage beside Slayer, Heather's car. She loves that car. Guess she didn't take her so we would have a more difficult time finding her. That done, I sneak up the stairs and into my room, flinging my coat across the dresser. My girls, Ebony and Ivory, are not even in the holsters. I took 'em out before throwing the coat. They get laid carefully on the leather like precious jewels, and Rebellion is leaned against the wall beside the dresser. Don't care much about my clothes, but my weapons are an entirely different story. _

_When I flop down onto the bed, my gaze is drawn to a picture of Heather, sitting on my bedside table beside another photograph of Mom, a different shot from the one I keep at the shop. She isn't pretty, she isn't skinny, and her boobs are only average-sized. She isn't the type of woman I would ever have considered as date material._

_I guess opposites really do attract. _

_Heather... I miss you._

_Come back to me, babe. I'm going crazy without you. _


	4. Michael

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary:** This is Michael here. You know, the older twin Heather gave birth to, Dante's son, named for the Archangel Michael who defeated Satan, the Devil? These are his thoughts, taking place when he's about four, a few months before Reece finds his mother and she decides it's time to give her children a safe, permanent home. Of course, the basic theme here is that of abandonment. The twist, well... Hey, it's supposed to be from a kid's point of view! A super-intelligent, half-demon kid, but a kid nonetheless!

Michael

_Light... Streaming in from the roof... _

_Daylight. _

_I jerk upright, now fully awake and look around the box. My twin sister, Aeva, is snuggled up against me, still asleep. She isn't afraid of the light, like me. Daylight is bad. It means people are awake. It means we could be found. _

_Being found is worse than bad. Much worse. _

_Mommy's had to protect us before, when bad people found us. _

_Mommy isn't here now. She's working, making money so we can eat. Mommy always works during the day. She says that the police don't expect women like her to brazenly strut the streets in broad daylight. They expect women like her to work at night, and so she can get her work done when they don't expect her to and not get caught. I wish she would tell me what 'brazenly' means. _

_Mommy never tells us what she does at work. She just says it's 'adult matters.' She won't tell us anything more than that. But if the police arrest women like her for working, then it's got to be bad. Mommy's good; why's she doing something bad? _

_She's told us before that we are the only things in her life that matter. If it means doing bad things so we can survive, she'll do them. _

_I wish she didn't have to do bad things. Mommy said that this life was her choice; she needed some space from our daddies, and she didn't have any other friends to help her out that were far enough away that they wouldn't find her. So she took to the streets, and seven months later, we were born. She says that's when she started to do bad things, because she had more than one person to take care of. _

_Mommy protects us, and will keep doing that until Aeva and I can protect ourselves. She says that it will be a few more years until we can take care of ourselves while she's away. I don't want it to be a few more years. I want to protect people (especially Mommy and Aeva) _now.

_Mommy always cries when she's protected us. She never lets us see the bad people who find us, and would hurt us, but Aeva and I know what she does to them if they threaten us too much. We've smelled the blood, heard the screams. Mommy kills the bad people who want to hurt us. I don't want to see her cry anymore. It always makes me sad. _

_I have to wonder if Mommy was always this sad. Was she like this before she left our daddies? Did they make her happy? If they made her happy, then why did she leave them? She said she needed space... Did she get tired of them? How do you get tired of someone you love? What if she decides she needs space from us? What if she decides to leave us? _

_Michael, stop it! Your mommy loves you; she wouldn't do that. _

_But she left your daddy and Aeva's... _

_That's different. We're her kids. She wouldn't leave us. I _know_ she wouldn't. _

_Aeva's still sleeping. She's so soft and warm lying beside me like this, as if I were her pillow. We sleep like that when Mommy isn't home for us to lean against. We hold onto each other for comfort, to make sure that the other is there. I get scared whenever Aeva isn't with me, and I know she feels the same when I'm not with her. I can feel it. _

_I pet her hair. It's the same white color as mine, but longer. I was found by a bad man a few weeks back; he grabbed my hair when I tried to run. Mommy had a knife she used to cut my hair free, before she told me to run and find Aeva, to not look back. The bad man screamed after I ran. When Mommy came to find us, she was wet. She had rolled in a big puddle outside before coming to get us. Useless, far as I'm concerned. Aeva and I could still smell the blood on her. _

_Aeva's awake now. Her eyes, green instead of my blue, catch the light and seem to glow as she looks at me. She speaks through our link, because it's quiet. She wants to know what time it is. How long before Mommy comes back. I tell her a few hours; a wild guess. I can't see the sun, so I have no idea what time it is. _

_A box falls. Aeva and I freeze. _

_Somebody else is here. _

_Mommy's not here. If the bad people find us... _

"Little ones? It's all right. I'm here now."

_Mommy!_

_It's later than I thought it was. She's back, and she's brought food. Burgers and fries from a fast-food place, with toys for me and Aeva. We dive into the bags, and at first I don't notice that she's pretty tired. So tired, in fact, that she really can't eat her burger. I ask her what's wrong, but she won't say anything. All she does is lean back against the back wall of the wooden box and close her eyes to sleep. Aeva and I look at each other, and wolf down our food. No words are needed between us, spoken or silent. We crawl over to our mommy and wriggle underneath her arms, close to her body, snuggling as close to her as we can get. She's had a hard day, and we're all she has. _

_Our mommy needs us. _

_There's my proof. Mommy won't abandon us, because she needs us. _


	5. Aeva

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary: **I've done one twin; now it's time for the other one. This is from Aeva's point of view, and for once it's not Heather who has 'abandoned' her. Vergil's been out on a mission for a few days, and old memories come back to haunt her while she waits for him, afraid that he has gone away forever. She's about eight years now, so her use of language is going to be a lot more sophisticated than that of her twin brother in the last chapter. It's much harder than one might think to write things for a kid with a genius IQ level!

**Queen's Quorner: **I was planning on updating this one and "Happy Anniversary" a lot sooner than this, but I got hit upside the head with another story idea by my muse. It's got me writing a Final Fantasy VII story at the moment, but it was gracious enough to reinspire me for this chapter. Don't shoot the messenger! Blame the muse! Oh, and just as a clarification, the pronunciation is "Nelo Dawn-leel."

Aeva

_Raining… _

_It's raining outside, a storm that paints the sky with lightening. Thunder rolls as a bolt flashes, illuminating the day with purest white light. I'm leaning on the window sill in my room, watching the world outside with my chin pillowed on one arm. _

_It's been three days, and Daddy still hasn't come home yet. _

_Mommy said that he and Uncle Dante had been called out on missions while Michael and I were at school. More demon-slaying. Nothing they couldn't handle in a swift and timely manner. No reason for me to worry. After all, _nothing_ could possibly hurt my Daddy. He's too powerful. _

_Except…_

_Uncle Dante came back yesterday evening. He was really surprised that Daddy hadn't come back yet. Apparently he got the shorter straw, and had to go on the more dangerous mission. He and Mommy try not to show it, but I can tell anyway. It shows in their body language._

_They're worried too. _

_I heard Uncle Dante talking to Mommy the other night, when I got up from bed to go get a drink of water. He said that Daddy has always had a fascination with occultic things, and that the mission he went on would possibly have brought him in close contact with sorcerors who serve – or did serve; Daddy isn't sure if he and Uncle Dante actually managed to kill him or not – Mundus within the Human World. If he somehow got caught…_

_Or even worse, was seduced once more…_

_I ran back to my room when I heard that part, dug Charlie out of the pile of stuffed animals in the corner and held him close to me until I finally went to sleep. I know my Daddy's done some pretty bad things in the past. He, Mommy, and Uncle Dante tried to hide it from me, but I read some books in Daddy's collection. I know about the Temen-ni-gru, what Daddy was trying to do. I know about some of his crimes against humanity, some of the horrific things he's done to reach his goals. But he's so different now. He wouldn't go back to the way he was before. _

_Would he?_

_If the prize was tempting enough, would he relapse into the ways of darkness? Would he allow the demon within to rule his mind once more, forcing the human side away from him? Would he become evil again?_

_I shudder and push the thought away. My Daddy would never do such a thing. He loves me, Mommy, Uncle Dante, and my brother too much to give us up for something like that._

_He wouldn't abandon us. _

_I know he wouldn't. _

_I look away from the display outside my window to the sword hanging on the wall above my second bed, the one with legs and a wooden frame. Daddy gave it to me when I turned seven, told me it was time I started training with actual weapons. It was a sword he had gotten when he defeated a particularly nasty succubus a few years ago, a Devil Arm meant for a woman rather than a man. Both hilt and blade are made of blackest steel, with silver engravings laid along the length of the double-edged metal. Engravings of a thorny rose-vine, so detailed that they seem almost real. The sword is named _Nela Danlil, _"Black Rose." Her abilities are definitely not like those of Rebellion or Yamato, or any of the other weapons my Daddy and uncle use. Nela Danlil is a vampiric sword; she sucks the blood, the life-force, out of her victims and transfers them to her wielder to give them strength, speed, and healing energy far beyond what they could normally accomplish. Furthermore, when the correct command is given, she will ooze a red poison that paralyzes her victims; when I've got that ability going, it looks like the sword is _bleeding_. Very cool, and strangely beautiful._

_Nela Danlil isn't the first weapon my Daddy has given me. On birthdays and at Christmas, my gift from him is always some kind of Devil Arm or extremely powerful human-made weapon. A pair of nunchuks, some daggers, a whip with a blade on the tip… I really will be prepared, when he finally takes me out on my first mission. _

_Which brings me back to my original train of thought. Where is my father?_

_This isn't like him, to not tell us where he is or how he's doing. He's got a cell phone; if a mission is going to take him longer than expected, he'll call and let us know, so we won't worry about him. We all trust him, but even Uncle Dante is worried now. _

_Three days without a call or any other kind of communication… _

_Uncle Dante can't even reach him through that link they share. He and Mommy's connection, the one forged when they got married in the demonic tradition, doesn't yield any answers. It's as if he's…_

NO!

_Daddy's not… No!_

_He'll come back. Mommy always came back, when she had to go away for a while when we were out on the streets. She always came back, and Daddy does too. He's stronger than Mommy is. I know he'll come back. _

_There's a hand on my back, rubbing with just enough pressure that it feels nice. I can tell by the size alone that it belongs to Uncle Dante. _

"Hey Aeva. Whatcha doing?"

_I tell him I'm watching the storm, but I don't say anything about the other reason I'm waiting at the window. _

_I think he knows, though. The look is his eyes, the eyes of my twin, are sympathetic. _"You miss him too, don't you?"

_I say that's it's none of his business, and to please go away. I want to be alone right now. Ignoring him, I continue to stare outside, my emerald eyes on the street rather than the sky. I don't want my uncle to see me like this. _

"Fine. Just came up to tell you that dinner's going to be a little late. Your mother doesn't feel like cooking, so we're having pizza tonight."

_I don't like pizza. Daddy doesn't either._

"We've ordered pasta and cheese bread for you. If you don't come down for dinner, it'll be in the fridge." _I hear him moving away, leaving. But he pauses at the door. _"Don't worry about him, Aeva. Your daddy's better at taking care of himself than anybody I know. I don't know what's taking him so long, but he'll come back."

_I don't answer. I have nothing to say to my uncle at the moment. _

_Mommy did say that I inherited my father's arrogant streak. I guess she was right._

_Daddy's twin is gone a moment later, leaving me alone once more, staring out into the pitch-black night. Lightening flashes again, and thunder booms, very loud, very close. _

_It takes a few minutes before I notice the buzzing sound drawing closer to our house. No, not a buzzing. A motorcycle engine. _

_Could it be…?_

_The window is left behind as a race out of the room and down the stairs at top speed, a bluish blur – yes, blue _is_ my favorite color! – with long white hair trailing in its wake. I streak past Mommy, Uncle Dante, and Michael so fast they don't even notice me. But then again, their attention is on the television. They probably wouldn't have seen me if I had been walking and singing at the top of my lungs. _

_Television trance. It has its uses. _

_I'm in the garage a second later, watching the door with hope threatening to send my heart into cardiac arrest. The light above clicks on as the door begins to open, the purr of the motorcycle engine very close now, probably at the end of the driveway. Lightening flashes, blinding me for a moment with its suddenness, but the engine come closer still. Once the spots cease obscuring my vision, I can clearly see who is riding the motorcycle. _

_Daddy!_

_He looks exhausted. The black pants and shirt, the smooth leather vest he wears, are all riddled with cuts and slices. The clothes look like they've been put through a blender. Yamato, worn across his back for once rather than at his side, where he could lose it while riding his Kawasaki bike, is covered with dried blood. I can see no injuries on him, but he looks really bad nonetheless. He offers me a tired smile as he slowly gets off his bike. _

"I had thought you would be the first to greet me, daughter. Looks like I was right."

"Daddy!"_ The word bursts unbidden from my lips as I run towards him, nearly knocking him over as I wrap my arms about his waist in a tight, thankful embrace. He is tense, surprised by my actions, but finally he kneels down and enfolds me in a hug. My worries and fears melt away in the strength of my father's arms around me. _

_I don't know what took him so long, but at the moment it just doesn't matter. _

_He didn't abandon us._

_He didn't abandon me. _


	6. Eva

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary: **Eva's turn. 'Nuff said.

**Queen' Quornor: **Told ya I'd be doing an Eva chapter sooner or later! I think most of you can probably guess who's abandoned her here, but I might as well come out and say it. She's recently come to the conclusion that Sparda isn't going to be coming home anytime soon, and she's watching the twins while she thinks, trying not to let on that she's having a really hard time dealing with this. I really respect Eva, so I've tried hard not to make her sound too cliche. It's a bit unavoidable in a fic/situation like this, but I tried. Besides, I have Dante and Vergil hanging over my shoulders at the moment, making sure I don't portray their mother as someone weak and helpless. I tell you, nothing works better for keeping a character in canon than said character's own kids!

Eva

_He's not coming home._

_I know he's gone. Sparda has never stayed out this late before. He's always very punctual, coming home precisely when he says he will and not a moment later. Furthermore, he's never, _ever_ just left without telling me where he's going. He always tells me where he's going, why he's going, and when to expect him home. He says he doesn't want me to worry about him._

_But now Vergil has told me that he snuck out of the house, carrying one of his swords and an overnight bag. He said he told him that he had to go away, so the people chasing him wouldn't find us. He's luring the demons and their followers away from us, using himself as bait so the twins and I will have a chance to get away and find shelter. True, we can only move to the other side of town because that's the only other property that he's warded recently, but it's better than moving to the other side of the world. One of the best hiding places _is_ in plain sight, after all. If they were closing in on that house, the last place they would expect is for us to remain in this city. They would think that we fled somewhere far away, where we would be safe. _

_By remaining in danger, we are, in fact, safe. _

_The twins are dealing with their father's 'abandonment' in different ways. Vergil is, as always, my little trooper. He is dealing with this by _not_ confronting it. He reads his books, watches television, goes to school, and basically keeps to his own little schedule. Normalacy is his defense against his father's departure. He hasn't even gone near Sparda's study or mentioned the word 'father' since last week. When he comes to me for some reason at night, he makes me scoot over rather than climbing into the larger, vacant side of the bed. He does not want to confront the fact that his beloved father is not coming home. _

_As for Dante, he's been... Well, I guess the only way I can describe it is 'clingy.' He refuses to let me out of his sight, following me around the house constantly and racing to find me when the bus drops him and Vergil off after school. It's as if he is afraid that I'll leave him too, now that Sparda has. Dante's been sleeping in my bed lately, or at least dragging a huge pile of blankets and pillows into the room and making himself a nest on the floor beside my side of the bed. I really don't blame him that much. He wasn't nearly as close to Sparda as Vergil, but losing his father like this has shaken him. He doesn't want me to leave him. I've reassured him time and again, but he just looks at me with those wide blue eyes of his, and seems to become far younger than I know him to be. I mean, he's ten years old. But nobody can pull a sad-puppy-face like him. Not even Vergil has perfected it to the same extent as Dante. It's nearly impossible to stop myself from gathering him into my arms and hugging him for all he's worth, until the pain in those eyes is gone. _

_Especially because I'm not sure who needs the comfort more. Dante..._

_Or me. _

_I have to be strong for them. The twins aren't strong enough to deal with something like this on their own. They need me now more than ever before, but I'm not sure I have the strength to help them _and_ look after myself. I mean, my husband has just up and left me and our children, without a single word or anything. He just...left. I know it was for our own safety, but still..._

_I can't help but feel as if he's abandoned us._

_Especially me._

_I honestly thought I was stronger than this. I have dealt with guys leaving me before, without a single explanation or anything. But somehow, I had thought Sparda wouldn't do something like that. I knew he might have to, but I never gave a thought to how I might deal with something like this. And it's not even the fact that he's left that is breaking me down. It's the little things. _

_Like our family portrait, hanging above the fireplace in his study. Or his scent on the pillow, seeing his favorite foods in the refrigerator or the cupboards, or even pulling his clothes out of the laundry. Little things like that remind me that he's never coming back, and it really gets to me. Sometimes it's all I can do not to start crying in front of the boys. _

_I can't let them see me cry._

_So if I do break down, it's while they're over at a friend's house or school or something, somewhere they have no chance of getting home quickly from. It's just so hard, sometimes, to keep from breaking down. The boys need me, so I have to be strong. But I'm so weak, right now, on the inside..._

_It's so hard. _

_Especially at times like this. Right now I'm watching tv with them. Some stupid 80's cartoon they really love, _Thundercats_. Dante loves Cheetara and Tigra, Vergil worships Lionel. I don't really care for it all that much, but I watch it because I like spending time with my boys. I don't even know what the episode is about, but they're really excited about it. Something about Mum-ra creating another trap for the Thundercats, and them slowly falling into it. But, knowing this cartoon, they'll come out on top. That's what I hate about cartoons like this. The good guys always win. Wouldn't it be ok to throw a healthy dose of reality into things like this? The bad guys win just as often as the good guys. If the censors don't like that, then screw them. Kids have to learn sooner or later. _

_If only I can keep my boys from learning that later rather than sooner..._

_Sounds hypocritical, I know. But I don't want them to lose their innocence any sooner than absolutely necessary. They'll have to grow up far too quickly as it is. Don't take away their childhood, their innocent joy, before it _has_ to go. _

_Even as that thought crosses my mind, I am reminded once more that Sparda is gone. I don't know where that thought came from, but it comes immediately to the front of my brain. I just know, somehow, that I can't just hold back the tears this time. Dante stops me as I get up off the couch. _

"Mommy, where are you going?"

_I tell him that I'm just going upstairs for a moment, that I'll be right back down in a moment. He doesn't seem to believe me, regarding me with glittering blue eyes that know far more than I want them to, but Vergil tells him to _"shut up and watch the cartoon." _As he turns to look at his twin, I escape up the stairs. I have to be alone for a moment, to collect myself. _

_I find myself collapsed on the floor beside the bed, my head buried in my arms on _his_ side of the bed, trying desperately to keep my sobs from escaping the circle of my own limbs. My sons have extremely good hearing; I don't want to risk them hearing me cry, much less actually see me. So I try as hard as humanly possible to stay silent. I think I succeeded. _

_Having thoroughly lost track of time, I lift my head and lay it sideways on my arms, slowly calming down. My sorrow and loneliness has been drained, somewhat, for now. I know from experience that it will return all too soon. _

_The door creaks slightly, and I tense. _

_They have seen me._

_I call out for him to come on in, keeping my voice down in case it's only one of them. I sit up and rub the tear tracks away with the heel of my hand, shoving my hair up and out of my face as Dante peeks around the door, unaccountably shy. I offer him a watery smile, trying to be brave for him. It's much more difficult than it sounds. _

"Mommy..." _He comes to me then, dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms around me so tightly that I find it hard to breathe. I wonder why he's doing this, and then it comes to me. He's trying to comfort me as I've comforted him over the past week, attempting to make me feel better and know that I am not alone. I take his hug gladly, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his soft white hair. I need the comfort as much as he does right now. That he knows I need this, it speaks volumes. I know Scorpio children are known for displaying wisdom far beyond their years, but I was not expecting this, his willingness to comfort me as if I were the child and he the adult. _

_It is a gesture I cannot help but appreciate. _

_At long last, he lifts his head from my chest and looks up at me from beneath his silver fringe, his eyes so wise and so very young. _"Are you ok now, Mommy?"

_I smile at him, a genuine one this time. _"Yes, Dante. Thank you."

_He grins knowingly, then gets up and takes my hand, tugging me to my feet. _"C'mon, Mom. Vergil doesn't need to see you like this."

_I have to shake my head as he hauls me out into the hall towards the bathroom. He is definately wiser than most people give him credit for. Then it hits me. _

_He's never called me 'Mom' before. _

_Both of them are growing up so fast..._

_Especially now that Sparda's abandoned us. _

_I have to stay strong for their sakes, and not give in to weakness again. _

_I have to fight for, to protect, what innocence they have left. _

_I'm all they have left. _


	7. Jessica

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary:** Going in a different direction, we are doing someone from the novels. It's Jessica's turn now. More along the lines of 'horror' rather than 'angst.'

**Queen's Quornor: **This idea literally came out of the blue. I had never really intended to do anything with the characters from the novels, but then I got this idea for Jessica. She fits the requirements for this group of stories perfectly, after all. So here she is, and maybe I'll be doing something for Dante and Vergil again soon, set far earlier than the events of "My Angel." Depends on what the muse brings me, I suppose. And yes, I have taken some creative liberties with the setting. Somehow, an enormous empty room seemed more appropriate than a hallway for what was playing out in my head. Besides, I've always wondered how Jessica got to the point of being turned into a tree, and this was the perfect opportunity to work that out. And the site's e-mail seems to be down again. Lovely.

Jessica

_I hate this place. _

_The sanitarium on the outskirts of town. This is where Dad brought me when my attacks got worse. He can barely afford the treatments, but he still manages to scrape together enough money to pay for my care. He doesn't come in that much anymore, but when he does he looks terrible. What am I forcing him to do, to pay for these treatments? _

_Hah. 'Treatments.' More like 'injections of nameless drugs into your veins so we can see what the heck they do to you.' Most of the things they do to me in the name of 'medicine' make the visions even worse. I see things, you know. That's what made Dad put me in here. At first it was just little things, glimpses of things at the edge of my vision, shadowy flashes I wasn't even sure I had seen. But it got worse and worse, until I wasn't sure what was reality and what was nightmare. Dad became convinced I needed help after I collapsed in the middle of dinner, the bowl of stew I was bringing in for Nesty falling to splash on the floor and against his legs while I screamed that there was something right behind him. I still swear that there was, because it's true! I don't know what it was, but the only word that keeps running through my mind is a bad one._

_'Demon.' _

_Is that what I'm seeing? Are those nebulous, shadowy forms I behold coagulating and flowing apart against the walls the creatures a priest would name as demons? The leering faces that haunt my dreams, the glowing crimson eyes that watch me outside the door? _

_And I'm alone down here... _

_The staff decided to put me down in solitary confinement after I woke up the entire East Wing, screaming that there was something in the room with me. And there was! I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there. So here I am, in the darkest part of the basement, kept away from the other inmates and unallowed to be seen by anyone other than Dad or the staff assigned to my care. It terrifies me to be down here, but they refuse to let me out of here. They say that I am too dangerous to be allowed around the other inmates, and they made Dad agree after telling him some stories. Too dangerous? How am I dangerous when I had to fight for my life against the shadow-things on more than one occasion? _

_They told me I nearly killed one of the inmates during one of my attacks. I don't remember that. What I remember is a thing with a scythe coming at me. Of course I defended myself! And the next thing I know, I was lying on my back on a gurney, being wheeled back to the doctor's office for sedation. _

_I'm not crazy! _

_I'm not crazy..._

_I'm not..._

_Why won't anybody believe me when I tell them these things? I try to tell the psychologist the truth, because I want to go home. I want to see Tiki and Nesty again, to play dolls with them as many times as they want. I want to make that _doria _they love so much again. I want to greet Dad at the door when he gets back from a job, to hand him the paper I bought from the dispenser and bring him his dinner like I always did. I want to clean the house again, a chore I always hated before. I want to see Tony again, to have the house turn upside down like it always does when he comes to visit. The shrieking cacophony of my sisters when he comes back with Dad always hurts my ears, but I'd give anything to hear it again. _

_I just want to go home. _

_But they tell me I keep getting worse and worse, so I guess that's not going to happen anytime soon. Dad won't take me home until he's convinced that I'm all better, no matter how much I beg him. He says it's for my own good, but I can't see how this is good for me. _

_I glance up at the clock. Nearly six o'clock. Dad should be visiting soon, if he isn't out on a job. I hope he is. Dad hasn't been able to get that much money ever since Tony started working with that new guy, Gilver. I wish Gilver would go away. If Dad started working with Tony again, it would mean more money. He wouldn't be so sad anymore. I know he's been sitting up when he should be sleeping, worrying about money. He always does that when he can't find enough jobs. Before Tony came to town and started taking jobs with him, Dad did that a lot. After Tony came, I never saw him sitting in his chair, smoking and drinking coffee while mulling over our bills. But now that Gilver's taking jobs with Tony... _

_And I'm not there to comfort him, to make him to go bed or at least put a blanket over his shoulders. _

_Dad needs his sleep. If he doesn't get his sleep, if he sits up worrying and smoking because of me, his reflexes will slow down. If his reflexes slow down, he might get killed... _

_No!_

_Jessica, stop thinking like that. Dad's okay. You know he's okay. And when you see him later today, you'll see. He'll be the same big old gruff bear of a father you know and love. _

_He'll be here soon. You'll see. _

_The shadow-things always go away when Dad's here._

_Always..._

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

_My head hurts._

_Did I fall asleep? What time is it?_

_Midnight?! _

_Did Dad come? Where is he? Why didn't he wake me up? How did I fall asleep? _

_And where are the staff? They should have been in here at least two times, handing me cups of pills and water to swallow, poking me with needles and generally not letting me sleep. _

_The shadows are gone too. _

_What's going on? _

_The door swings open, revealing two of the orderlies. They tell me that it's time for my check-up, and to please get on the gurney. A check-up? The doctors go home at nine. Why on earth do they want me to go somewhere at this hour, when most of us are supposed to be asleep in our rooms? They gesture again, and this time I obey. I don't want to be punished again. I've never told Dad what they do to us when inmates cut out of line. It would only make him feel guilty. And I'm tough enough to deal with it by myself. _

_They strap me in place, and I try to relax, preparing for the ordeal that might be approaching. I hate check-ups. Hate them, hate them, hate them. They always mean more 'treatments' followed by delusions and hot or cold flashes, or whatever nasty reaction those drugs do to me. They never let Dad visit me after my check-ups. They're always careful to time visiting hours for the hours after the drugs have worn down and we are relatively normal again. So he would never believe me if I told him what they do to me under the disguise of 'treatments.' I'm a human lab animal, tested so they know what happens with certain drugs and innovations. This whole sanitarium is more about the benefits of the doctors and staff rather than the patients, after all. _

_Something catches my attention about the nurse above my head. Her eyes... _

_They're blank. _

_No, I don't mean that they're glazed over or not looking at me or anything. I mean _blank._ They are pure white. No irises, no pupils, no nothing. Empty. The other orderly has the same thing. _

_Okay, this is really creeping me out. Why are their eyes like that? _

_I whimper, scared. They've taken me past the elevator. If I was going to have a check-up, we'd already be on there. Where are they taking me? _

_The furnace room? _

_Why are we going there? _

_The doors bang open at our approach, and I see that the enormous boilers and furnaces that keep this gloomy building warm are gone. It's as if they've never been there. Even the supports on the floor are gone. It's just an enormous, empty room. And there are some really weird markings on the floor too. _

_The orderlies leave me there, helpless on my gurney. As they leave, they turn the lights off. _

_Dark..._

_Don't leave me here alone! The shadow-things will get me! Don't go! Don't!_

_They don't pay any attention to my screams. The doors slam shut with an echoing _clang!

_I can't hold the tears back. I'm so scared... _

_I want my Daddy. _

"There, there, little girl. Don't be so afraid. You are not alone down here."

_The voice is unfamiliar to me. Smooth, but slightly nasal. I guess it could be called well-cultured. It's certainly different from any of the people I've ever been introduced to. Who is this?_

_I voice that same question. The reply is a soft chuckle. I turn my head in the direction from which it comes, my eyes open as wide as I can get them to try and make something out of the pitch darkness, and try again. _

"Oh, I'm certain you already know."_ The voice is coming closer, accompanied by the soft crunching of footsteps on concrete, the brush of fabric against something solid. I still can't see anything. When next the speaker talks, it comes from the space right next to my right hand. _"I'm the man who stole your father's place as Tony's partner. The reason your father can't get any good work these days."

_Gilver? _

"Yes, that is my name. Or rather, what people know me as."

_I ask him what he is doing here. He's never been interested in me before. The only times I've ever seen him were those nights when Tony came by the house for something, usually a free dinner, and dragged him along with him. The last time I saw him was weeks ago. _

"I require your help with something, little girl. Something only you can help me with."

_What does he need my help with? And my name is Jessica, thank you very much. I'm a teenager, not a little girl!_

"Jessica, then. Would you like to help me? It will get you out of here."

_A way out of here... _

_A chance to see Dad, Tiki, Nesty, and Tony again..._

_Of course I'll help!_

_There's that chuckle again. _"Very good, Jessica. Now hold still. This won't hurt a bit."

_A scream rips from my throat as something slices through my stomach, pain flashing through me faster than I would have ever believed possible. What the heck was that? I scream his name, a question in my voice. _

"Blood sacrifice, Jessica. Now the ritual is complete, the nexus is open. You will change soon, and once 'Tony' gets wind of what's going on, he will come running. I do not expect that you shall have to suffer too long. Your father would probably come, but he's a bit...busy at the moment."

_What does he mean? What is he talking about? And shouldn't the pain be fading? Why is it getting stronger?_

_I feel his breath right next to my ear. I still can't see him, but I bet he's smiling under those stupid bandages of his. _"The blood of an innocent child, her suffering a sweet calling card to my forces. All that has happened to you has been my doing, Jessica. All so your father would leave you here, so I could get you alone and unprotected. Soon I will begin my conquest, and all because you agreed to help me. Had you not, I would not have been able to perform this ritual. Thank you, Jessica. You have made my job a hundred times easier."

_What... _

_What is happening? It feels like there's something growing inside me, out of the hole in my stomach, and it hurts! And why can't I move? _

_He laughs, a real laugh this time, as I hear him stand up and move away. As burning agony washes over me, I hear something wooden hit the floor. _"Watch her, and when Dante comes, don't make it easy for him."

"So he is to finish the sacrifice?" _The raspy voice sends chills down my spine. It sounds like nails on a chalk board._

"Yes. In releasing her, he will complete the nexus. His mercy is his weakness, after all. He will not be able to let her suffer like this, even if it does mean releasing my forces. Of course, he will not know that." _The room brightens as he kicks the doors off their hinges, the bent metal flying down the hallway as easily as birds. I see him silhouetted in the doorway as he turns back to me for a moment, his sword held close by his side as always. Was that what he cut me with? _"Oh, and Jessica?"

_I whimper in reply. It hurts so bad..._

"Don't expect your father. He's dead, and has been since yesterday."

_Dad is..._

_Dead?_

_NO!!!_

"I'd start praying for 'Tony' to come for you soon, if I were you. The longer he dawdles, the worse the pain is going to get." _Through teary eyes, I see him blow me a kiss and then walk away, abandoning me to my fate. _

_The pain is so bad... _

_God, let me die soon._

_Why can't I die?_

_Why can't I _die

_There aren't any shadows with me now, just something scampering around the foot of the gurney. I try to close my eyes, because I don't want to see it, but I can't. I can't move!_

_Tony... _

_Please..._

_Get me out of here. _

_Please come!_

_Don't abandon me too!_


	8. Nevan

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary: **Returning to the games, here is a chapter about someone who isn't necessarily 'abandoned.' Just left behind to her own devices. And she's not who you think she is, but she's definitely a 'she,' as is pretty obvious when she first meets Dante.

**Queen's Quornor: **Been awhile since I've updated anything on the DMC charts, hasn't it? I've been a bit absorbed with a pair of fics I've got going on the FFVII charts, and one in particular has been consuming my spare time. No, I haven't abandoned these fics; didn't I tell you guys that I wouldn't leave a fic unfinished? I can just only do so many things at one time, that's all. Anyway, this chapter is someone I really can't stand at all, but I tried to be fair make a good FP-POV for her. I strongly suspect that she had some sort of relationship with Sparda prior to his climb from the darkness, and that's where this chapter stemmed from; she cared about him to at least the tiniest extent, enough to have thought that he actually wanted her for his mate, and when he sealed her inside the Temen-ni-gru this 'dream/fantasy/whatever' came crashing down on her. So despite her evilness, she has been abandoned too. Oh, and 'nest-share' is what I believe she might call a lover, since there is apparently no such word as 'love' in Demonic. Enjoy!

Nevan

_Hmmm… What a wonderful dream. _

_All of the hopes to which I had so foolishly clung, awaiting his return like a hellhound lacking in brain-matter. Who did he think I was? I am the vampire goddess of the Abyss, the greatest of the succubi! The Mistress of Storms, the Electrical Rider, the Crimson Lady of Lust! Did he take me for some sort of love-sick maiden, desperate to please his every little desire? _

_That bastard. And I had such hopes for us…_

_How many years have I spent working my way up through the ranks of the succubi, just trying to attach myself to someone deserving of my power and abilities? Someone powerful enough to master me and become my mate? And now that I have found him, look what happens! He seals the Tower with some mortal priestess-whore, steals the key which had been entrusted into my care, and makes me look like a fool in front of the others. _

_Insufferable!_

_I pace around the opera house I have claimed for my nest, my bats fluttering about me in a squeaking, flapping cloud. The breeze caused by their wings causes my hair to stir from its usual placement, affording anyone who would care look a chance to peek at my perfect breasts. Yes, perfect. I am without flaw, every inch of me. Sparda chose me above the other succubi because I am as perfect as he is, with power to match his own. A perfect compliment to him. _

_Exactly what most demons would be searching for, if they desired a mate. _

_A shriek of rage erupts from my lips and I snatch up a golden platter, the designs suggesting that it originated in the human nation of Assyria or Babylon. A perfect piece of art and metalwork, a treasure given to me by my nest-share. _

_Now it is broken, shattering into miniscule shards of yellow metal and falling to the floor in a sparkling rain. Oh look; a tiny piece of it is yet embedded in the wall. How many times have my various nest-shares underestimated my physical strength? Just because I am so slim does not mean my fists do not hit as hard as their own. _

_Sparda was the _only one_ who never underestimated me…_

_Another enraged outcry, an outflung arm, and suddenly the bed I had shared with him is charred beyond recognition. _

_He was supposed to be my mate! I was supposed to be his mate! The entire tower believed I would be bearing his nestlings within the year! I had the respect of every devil and demon in this forsaken spit of rock; even Beowulf would bow to me when I passed his torture chamber… _

_And now they must all be laughing at me, for I was just as deceived as they. _

_Bastard! _

_There are char-marks on the walls now, evidence of my loss of control. I do not care! He played me for a fool, had me under the belief that I would soon become his mate and bear his nestlings, that I would be his queen when he destroyed Mundus! Son of a bitch and a hellhound! Deceiving serpent! I hate you, Sparda! Hate you hate you hate you!_

_My power envelopes me, crashing down and spreading to encompass the whole of the room in one blinding flash. Destruction crawls across the floor, snakes up the walls and across the ceiling. All that I had gathered, everything I believed worth keeping, explodes beneath the caress of my power._

_In seconds, my spacious nest has been utterly destroyed. _

_Sparda's fault, this too. Yes, this is his fault, not mine. His betrayal made me lose control and destroy all of the artifacts in which I had taken pleasure! _

_I shall have to move to another part of the opera house. This place is unfit for one such as myself now. _

_Sparda, I swear you will see me again. Your bloodline shall never be free of me, not until I have drained them of their blood, their seed, and all that they have to give. Should you escape my wrath, I will turn my attention to any nestlings you leave behind. _

_Be they male or female, they will fall to me. In every manner of which I can conceive, I will corrupt them. _

_Because you abandoned me, because you _betrayed_ me, you will never be rid of me. _

_And I _always _get what I want. _

Always.


	9. Alice

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary:** Already done someone from the novels, and possibly will again in a later chapter. But now we're going through the manga, and here's a character who is abandoned more by choice than design.

**Queen's Quornor: **This was one of those "Eureka!" moments we all seem to have from time to time. I was scrolling through the DMC fics when a fic about Vergil, Arkham, and Alice caught my eye, and somehow I got to thinking about Alice and how good she would be as a chapter for "Abandoned." So, here we are. Tell me if you enjoy it, ok?

Alice

_How long has it been since I came here, to this house? A week? Two weeks? A month? Time has melted together in this place. I no longer know when I left my father to come here with Rabi. _

_I never would have believed, but I miss Daddy. At least there, someone actually cared about me. Here, people ignore me more than they did back home. Only Arkham and Vergil know that I'm here. Arkham's wife and daughter have no idea that I lurk in the shadows, watching their every movement, hearing their every word. I know more about them than even they do, I bet. _

_But I'm trapped here. In giving myself to the darkness, I gave myself to Arkham. He treats me almost as a slave, running errands around the house and fetching Vergil whenever he wants him. He never lets me out of the house, and I have to stay away from the windows so no one sees me. _

_I know I wanted to grow up, to be pretty so people would notice me. Now that I can turn into that lovely woman whenever I have the energy, I realize that it was a stupid wish. My soul belongs to the Devil now; Heaven is denied me. _

_Because of my stupid wish, I have been abandoned by the light. _

_Why did I ever do this? If I had just been patient, I would have grown up on my own. Wouldn't I have been pretty when I got older? Well, wouldn't I? _

_I turn away from the mirror in my bedroom for a moment, only to turn into The Pretty Alice, as I have come to call her. I may be able to become her, but that is not me. I don't know who that Alice is. She's still as pretty as ever, with that wavy blonde hair and long, long legs. And her breasts. I don't have breasts, but she does. I run my hands over them; the feelings I get when I do things like this still surprise me, even though I've done it a hundred times by now. It feels _good_. I find that surprising, that they'll still register pleasure while the rest of me is in pain. That's what happened when Dante had his way with me. My breasts felt good and the rest of me felt really bad. _

_Dante..._

_He didn't save me. He rescued me from the things hurting me, and then he turned on me when I tried to seduce him. He hurt me worse than those things did. _

_He abandoned me, too. _

_Now a man who looks exactly like him is staying here. Vergil. I've heard him and Arkham referring to a brother of his; maybe he means Dante? Them looking alike can't possibly be a coincidence. _

_I wonder if Vergil would be more receptive of my attentions than Dante... _

_I cross to the stand beside my bed and pick up a necklace with a broken chain. I stole it from Dante earlier, after Arkham's daughter took me to his house. Maybe if Vergil sees me wearing a necklace that looks exactly like his (well, almost) he'll accept me and save me from this place. Maybe he'll take me home. _

_Or maybe he'll decide he likes me. _

_I'm nine years old. I know I shouldn't know about things like that, but I have quite an extensive knowledge of sex. My daddy brought home enough women after Mommy died that I _couldn't _avoid knowing about it. And while it didn't feel good with Dante, I bet it would feel a lot better with Vergil. _

_It only takes a little thread to fix the chain. And it looks good on me, resting in the valley between my breasts like it belongs there. And when the red jewel is paired with some clothes I stole from Mary's closet, I look like the proverbial knock-out. _

_I strike a pose in the mirror, one hand on my waist and the other lost in my hair. There's no way Vergil could possibly turn me down. All the men in the movies like women that look like Pretty Alice. My daddy liked women who dressed like this. _

_Vergil'll be the same, right? _

_Yeah. Of course he will be. As good as mine. _

_After checking my hair one last time, I go out in the hallway to wait by the stairs. Vergil's room is back down the hall; if he wants to get downstairs to Arkham's lab, he has to go past me. And once he sees me, he'll decide that I'm a beautiful woman and take me back to his room and have sex with me. Then I can convince him to take me back home, in exchange for the necklace. _

_Piece of cake. _

_I don't have to wait too long. Vergil comes down the hall a few minutes after I take my position, and he looks really serious, like he has something on his mind. _

_I can take that off your mind, if you let me! _

_He doesn't even look at me. But he does speak to me. _

"So... Still yearning for adulthod, I see. Selling your soul to grow up too fast, like so many other girls wanting to be painted whores..."

_WHORE?! _

"Shut up! You... You bastard! You think you're so..."_ How dare he?! I dressed up like this for him! _"I hate those eyes...! The way you look at me..."

_He's not even listening to me! He just gives me this look and jumps over the railing to the bottom floor. Like I'm not even worth his time. Son of a bitch!_

"I tire of you, girl." _He took great pains to emphasize that. _"I'm sure it's a phrase you'll hear from many men, all too soon."

_Oh, that... Wait. Did he just try to warn me? Maybe he does care about me! _

"Wait... Where are you going?"_ I call down to him. _

_He doesn't answer. I feel as if... No. Not in front of him! NO!_

_I'm in my room again a moment later, throwing myself on the bed and crying like a baby. And that's what I feel like right now; a baby that no one wants to look at, abandoned on the side of the road or somebody's stoop. Somebody else's problem. _

_What do I have to do to get some attention around here?! _

_He didn't even notice the necklace._


	10. Patty

**Disclaimer: **Same song and dance. Know the twins, don't own DMC. Would be a millionaire if I did. Heather be mine, peoples!

**Summary:** I own no part of Devil May Cry. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Got it?

**Queen's Quornor: **Since I've worked with the novels and manga already, I think it's time I worked in somebody from the anime. It's kinda sad, because her name seems to go back and forth on the translated episodes (Capcom had BETTER send this over here to the States...), but I decided to use the one she goes by in most of them. Patty, Betty, whatever. The little blond girl! There are some spoilers for the anime in here, so if you don't want to know what happens, you might want to skip this chapter. I know I said I'd never use Trish in one of my fics, but this is the sole exception. After all, she's in the anime, and Patty does know her. Gotta put her in here, to my greatest sorrow. That's one very nice thing about the anime. They solidified my suspicions: Dante and Trish never, ever had a relationship beyond partners and friends!

Patty

_Cleaning really gives you time to think. It's a great way to get your head together, and sort through the things in your life that need it. I guess that's why I still come out here to Devil May Cry, even though I have my mom back. Dante's still my friend, and I find that it's kind of relaxing, cleaning up after him. _

_Besides, if I don't take care of this place, nobody will. _

_Dante couldn't care less about how messy his office gets, or what people think when they walk in here. I think that's part of the reason why he never gets any clients. They take one look at the office, and decide to take their business elsewhere. I mean, just look at this place! It's a pigsty! Old pizza boxes everywhere, empty beer bottles, old magazines, crumpled up papers... If one didn't know Dante, one might think he would take just as little care in his work as he does in maintaining his workspace. He's a slob! _

_And the office certainly doesn't get any cleaner when Miss Lady or Miss Trish come in. They aren't Dante's partners, so they don't spend much time in here. They sometimes come in with jobs they want his help on, and Miss Lady does periodically stop by to bug Dante about the money he owes her, but they never say anything about the way the place looks. Morrison doesn't lift a finger to clean, either. _

_I'm the only one who cares about how bad Devil May Cry looks!_

_But when I tried to make it a bit more appealing after Dante first met me, he made me put it back the way it was. He just doesn't like stuffed animals or soft pastels, for some reason. No, he has to have those stupid demon skulls and swords all over the place. He won't even let me trash that poster he has on the bathroom door, the one with the lady in the bikini. Now, what conclusion would you draw about a guy with a poster like that in the bathroom? I tried explaining it to him once, but he just told me to leave it alone. I don't see why he cares so little about what the swords and skulls and poster and the mess say about him. They make him look bad to potential customers!_

_He's sleeping on the couch right now, as usual. Here I am, scrubbing the floor on my hands and knees, and he's laying there with the latest issue of _Guns and Ammo _over his face, snoozing. Is it too much to ask that I get a little thanks for my hard work? He doesn't even _try _to keep the place clean. I come over to clean every Sunday, and every single time it always looks the way it was _last _Sunday. _

_I can't get too mad at him, though. He needs me, though he'd never admit it. And I like the guy, so I'll keep indulging him. One of these days, he'll thank me. I know he will. _

_He hasn't gotten annoyed with me lately. I used to eat his strawberry sundaes whenever I came by, but I promised him I'd stop if he came back. And he did. So, I did. We haven't played poker since before that happened, so he hasn't lost any money to me recently. And of course, I'm never taking Miss Lady and Miss Trish's advice again. The last time I did, Dante got in trouble for owing money to a clothing boutique. I don't want him to get in trouble on my account again._

_I sit back and wipe some stray hair away from my forehead, taking a moment to look at him. It's hard to believe that only a few days ago, I thought he was dead. I wasn't thinking when I went in that place. I just wanted to see my mother again, and save her. If I had known what would happen, I wouldn't have put the necklace on the alter. Mom and Morrison almost died, that weird guy became a demon..._

_And Dante almost died. _

_I never realized how much he meant to me until I saw him hanging there, on that cross with his own sword through his chest. He's my best friend, and he saved my life. It was my fault he was there. If I hadn't gone to the hotel, if I hadn't been such a selfish little child, if I had listened to my mother and not that guy... _

_He would never have been in that situation in the first place. _

_I guess I owe him, now. He's gone through so much because of me, and he's done so much for me. And he didn't have to. He's a good guy, even though he acts like he doesn't care. He's a pig, but he's still my friend. _

_It is hard not to get annoyed with him, though, when he messes up the office like this and then _expects _me to clean it up for him. _

_I'll keep cleaning it for him, though. _

_It's getting late. Mom's going to be worried if I don't get home soon. She's bought a place here in town, so I can be near Dante. She understands why I don't want to leave him. I also think she doesn't want to leave because she's afraid the demons might attack her again, and she wants to be near somebody who can take care of them if they do. _

_It only takes a few minutes to dump out the bucket into the bathtub and put my supplies away. Dante never uses his coat closet, so it works as a place to store the cleaning stuff. Normally, I'd wake him up and tell him goodbye before I leave, and lecture him about keeping the office neat and tidy. _

_Not tonight, though._

_Tonight, I get him a blanket from upstairs and cover him with it, making sure to tuck him in. We can't have him catching cold, you know. I don't want to think about what might happen if he had to beat devils while he's doped up on Nyquil. The magazine gets taken off his face and laid on the coffee table, where it belongs. _

_There. He looks so much more comfortable now. _

_I have to leave him for now. But I'll be back tomorrow, after school. And every day after that. _

_I'm not abandoning him again. _


End file.
